


Are you mine?

by PeterParcoeur



Category: Kim Taehyung - Fandom, Park Jimin - Fandom, V - Fandom, bts v - Fandom, jimin - Fandom, taehyung - Fandom, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood and Violence, Breeding, Dom Kim Taehyung | V, Dom/sub, F/M, Kim Taehyung | V-centric, Manipulative Relationship, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Praise Kink, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Sex Toys, Sexual Roleplay, Smut, Top Kim Taehyung | V, Vaginal Sex, Violence, Yandere, Yandere Kim Taehyung | V, bts - Freeform, jimin - Freeform, kim taehyung - Freeform, park jimin - Freeform, taehyung - Freeform, v - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 23:49:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30063447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeterParcoeur/pseuds/PeterParcoeur
Summary: ༻❁༺Love is a strange concept.Like a merry-go-round, every date feels the same.Until a man comes into your life and sends every single assumption you ever had flying, along with the rest of your life.This is a story about love turned into obsession and how easy it is to be consumed by a devil with the face of an angel.༻❁༺
Relationships: Kim Taehyung | V/Original Female Character(s), Kim Taehyung | V/Reader, Park Jimin (BTS)/Reader
Kudos: 7
Collections: Yandere





	1. A FUNERAL/ HER

**Author's Note:**

> Hello ♥
> 
> Before reading, please consider checking the tags to make sure nothing is triggering to you.  
> This is obviously +18 content including sensitive, explicit content. 
> 
> If you're looking for jealous, manipulative, dom, yandere!taehyung, this is the right place.  
> There might be a few fluffy moments but this will probably be mainly smut. 
> 
> I will try my best to include trigger warnings as I go ♥
> 
> This is a chaptered fic so, bear with me.  
> It is written at the first person, both from the reader's and Tae's POV.  
> I will obviously try not to write the same chapter from a different POV unless it's important/it makes sense to the rest of the story.
> 
> Please, please give kuddos & comment if you like it as it's always extremely motivating to get feedbacks! :)
> 
> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy!

**A Funeral**  
_\- Her -_

Love.  
What a twisted concept.

Here’s the information I’ve gathered so far: girl meets boy, they instantly connect through an inevitable attraction and decide to interact. They go on a couple dates and get to know each other through a bunch of first times. First kiss, first intercourse, first time holding hands in public, first time meeting the best-friends and family… And then, after a while, they find themselves facing two options that could possibly define their entire future. I like to picture it as this scene from Matrix where Neo has to decide whether he’d like to take the blue pill or the red one. 

In this specific situation, you basically have to decide whether you see yourself spending the rest of your life with the same person, or if you’d like to call it quits before things get too serious. While I, a hopeless romantic, wish I’d taken the blue pill and chose to be with someone forever, a quick glimpse at my dating history made me realize that I, a girl in her mid-twenties, may not be anyone’s blue pill after all. 

You see, movies and tv-shows have taught us that true love usually goes through the exact same pattern. Girl meets Boy, they instantly connect, interact, fall in love, get married, have babies and spend their lifetime together, happily ever after. Whereas real life simply slapped me in the face with a whole different scenario: Girl (me) meets Boy (all of my exes), they instantly connect, have a fiery couple weeks together until Boy realizes he’s just “not that into her (still me)”. I’m not proud to admit I’ve had my fair amount of break-up texts and impromptu “we need to talk” moments and what really bugs me is that, after all of this, I still genuinely think love truly exists. It’s out there, shadowing my dream man, waiting for him to give me the ultimate approving stamp. 

Love.  
A twisted concept I could live with.  
Until Death tears us apart.

༻❁༺

I was never a fan of funerals.  
I mean… Are there people out here who just LOVE to stand in a cemetery amongst a bunch of sobbing strangers, watching someone you used to hang out with being dragged into the ground as a mourning relative gives a heartfelt speech about them?

Death terrifies me. Not the actual, physical aspect of it. We were all born to die and whether my time comes tomorrow or fifty years from now, there’s not much I can do about it. But I tend to do this thing, whenever I find myself attending a funeral, where I just try and picture my own inhumation. Call me a psychopath or a masochist, but I just like to imagine my own relatives gathered around my coffin, saying nice (and probably fake) things about how and why I was a good person. My parents would be devastated, well, if my dad eventually sobered up on the occasion, I like to think he would be upset. My mom would bawl her eyes out and mourn the only child she ever loved, perfectly unbothered by my sister and brother standing next to her. My Aunt Ellen would not cry cause nobody’s death will ever be as tragic as Lady Diana and as for my special someone, if I’m lucky enough to have one by the time I pass away, well… I assume he’d choke on his tears and say something along the lines of “I’ll never love anyone like her, ever, she was it for me” and just….Scream?

I was dragged from my sordid daydream by a sobbing scream coming from the right side and when I looked up to see Kathryn, my boss’s widow, I couldn’t help but think that sometimes, life truly sucked. Joe was in his mid forties and while he enjoyed his “occasional” smoke break six to seven times a day, he was, from all I knew, fairly healthy. So, to me, it just made no sense to have him die of a heart attack on Saint Patrick’s day before we even started doing shots. Still, there he was, going deeper into the ground with every second passing by as his extremely look alike younger brother delivered a speech with a shaky voice and teary eyes. It just sucked to be there as a waitress paying tribute to my late boss while surrounded by legitimately heartbroken family members of his. 

“Fuck me, I could use a smoke right now…” my co-worker, Jimin, seemed to read right through my mind as he whispered through gritted teeth, “...would it be innapropriate?” 

“Technically… He didn’t die of Cancer” I shrugged while also, craving for a cig. 

“How long do you think it’s gonna be?”

“A while… Is it your first funeral?” 

“I still have all four of my grandparents, they’re all aged 90 to 100 and could probably run marathons! does that answer your question?” 

“Yes - but also it confirms that rumor from work about you being a Vampire” I joked, reminiscing about that running prank from work and how we all collectively thought Jimin was a blood sucker. After all, he had the whole package. Pale skin, piercing blue eyes and an ethereal beauty only porcelain dolls could compete with. 

“At least that’s one funeral you won’t have to attend…” he smiled and we inevitably started to chuckle together like two kids standing in a church with no idea how to cross their hearts. A few people gave us the dead eye and as Kathryn looked up with a frown, I suddenly wished I was the one being put into the ground.

༻❁༺

Everybody eventually started to leave after an hour and I found myself waiting for Jimin as he paid his goodbye to Joe’s widow and their sons, patting backs and giving warm hugs like he had known them his entire life. We actually didn’t know much about Joe’s personal life except for his sons’ names and random things like his favorite drinks, movies and sports teams. But still, he always used to make us feel like family. It was weird to think we’d be back at the club in a couple hours without him bossing us around throughout our entire shift, only to do shots with us after the doors had closed. I was actually worried we would have to find a new job now that Kathryn was probably the new owner of the club. Surely she wouldn’t let two morons who laughed at his husband’s funeral work there any longer.

It was a beautiful day and you could definitely tell Spring was on its way as hummingbirds chipped into the trees and dew-coated grass seemed to slip under my feet with every step. Some people would say it was a good day to be alive… I’m not so sure Joe would have agreed with that. 

“Fuck…” I groaned as I watched my freshly painted nail chip off over the lighter as I figured Jimin wouldn’t mind me having a smoke without him. After all, he was taking forever to shake everyone’s hands, but unfortunately, my lighter seemed to have breathed his last breath too. 

A bright, burning flame appeared in front of my eyes and for a brief moment, I thought I had reached the gates of Hell for having such bad thoughts over a tragedy. I only realized someone was standing there when I looked up to see a hand, attached to an arm, linked to a body whose face definitely belonged to an actual angel. 

“Thanks” I hummed as I felt the nicotine fill my lungs, at last. 

“You’re welcome” his voice was soft and comforting, like a warm pillow you couldn’t wait to snuggle after a long day. The human equivalent of that cuddly toy you just carried around everywhere when you were a child. 

I’m not gonna lie, while I was quite outgoing and easy to talk to, I just didn’t know how to chit-chat a complete stranger at a funeral. There were just things you couldn’t use as a pick-up line such as “what brings you here?” - I mean, we were both obviously here, dressed in all black for a reason. There was something fancy about his outfit though, like he was running late to the fashion’s week. Black suit, white shirt and a thin black tie I could easily picture over his eyes during some kinky roleplay.  
Something about this man screamed pure filth.

“Do you smoke?” I eventually asked, cursing myself for being so random as I handed him the half-emptiness of my packet. 

“I stopped, but thanks” 

“So you just carry a lighter around for every damsel in distress, then?” 

“I guess so?” he smiled, which turned his astonishingly beautiful face into an absolute dream “but mostly I tend to cut things off when I feel myself getting addicted…”

“How often does this happen?”

“More often than I wish to…” 

His eyes seemed to sparkle with a thousand unspeakable secrets while his pink, plump lips definitely stole the attention and though the last thing I wanted was to get caught staring, I just couldn’t seem to stop looking at this guy’s every feature. From his slick, black hair brushing his brown eyes with every nod to the single freckle on the tip of his nose, I found myself immediately enthralled by a stranger and for the first time in my entire life, I felt like these girls who just find the most random topics to talk about just so they can have an excuse to catch a man’s attention for a little longer. I hated it, but I couldn’t help myself. 

“So, how did you know Joe?” I didn’t care, I just wanted him to talk. More specifically, I wanted him to talk to me, for hours. 

“We’re kind of...business partners, well, used to be…”

While I obviously didn’t expect them to be close relatives - mainly because Joe looked like any average new-yorker born and raised while this guy looked like he had been sent from Heaven - I was surprised not to have heard about him before. 

“Business partners? Sorry, I’m being super nosy right now…” I lied. I wanted him to spill all the details about whatever business he seemed to run with my late boss, about his dating status, his star sign and whether he was team Beatles or team Rolling Stones. At this point, I was as captivated by this guy as if he’d been an iconic Hollywood actor. 

“You’re not nosy” he oh-so-politely corrected me, “but I can’t tell you just yet”. 

I had to mentally scream into a void.  
“Yet” implied some serious “we will meet again” innuendo, which was all I needed to hear. 

“You’re Y/N, right? Joe told me about you… His favorite hostess…” 

“I like the fact you used the word hostess instead of waitress but yes, this is she!”

“Pleased to meet you, I’m Taehyung” 

… I always thought I would never be someone’s blue pill.  
_Until I met Taehyung._


	2. A FUNERAL/ HIM

__

_\- Him -_

I often see my brain like the cog of a clock, ticking, going round and round until it all makes sense again. I’m an overthinker. I don’t act in the heat of a moment. I plot, plan and make sure all the pieces of a puzzle fit together before I eventually start acting. I don’t do average, half-jobs and my skin itches at the thought of an unexpected bump on the road. I need to know what’s going on and where I’m going otherwise I just can’t move.  
My therapist once called me a manipulative control-freak, a pusher.  
Now the only things he’s pushing are daisies.

Death is such a peaceful thought. It’s tangible, real, it’s all around us and we know that, no matter which road we may take on our way there, we all will meet our maker eventually. I find it comforting to know that someday, the clock will stop ticking and I will rest, at last. 

Every day starts the same. Coffee, work out, shower and if I’m in a good mood, I’ll play a nice playlist while going through that routine. Otherwise, silence suits me just fine as it gives me more space to think, and plot, and plan. 

It’s been a month since I first saw her walking up the fifth avenue after a night shift, tired eyes and a sloppy ponytail from running from a table to another in a ridiculously short skirt, smiling politely at some drunk pigs, granting them with the attention none of them deserve. I sometimes wonder if she’s aware of how beautiful she is, how sexy she looks when she tilts her head while trying to remember every order without writing a single one down, if she can feel all of these eyes following her every move, gazing at her magnificent bum as it swings with each step. I hope she can’t see through their filthy thoughts every time they smile back at her because then, she would know just how much they wish they could fuck her. 

It’s a blessing and a curse, to be able to see right through someone with the blink of an eye. I look at a guy in a navy v-neck smirking at her as she bends down to put a pint in front of him and just like a movie playing in front of my eyes, I see it clearly, her pretty mouth filled with this guy’s cock, barely taking half of him even though he’s quite average. I see how this redneck with a messy bush for a beard likes to casually lay a hand at the bottom of her back. Every night. That same spot where her back ends and her bum starts, just so he has an excuse if she ever calls him out on his behavior. But she never does, like a good, trained doll.  
Maybe she likes to be watched, groped and pictured into the filthiest scenarios. She has that genuine naivety, that type of true kindness that makes her an unfortunate, yet easy prey. 

I watched her cross that same street every day, between 6:30 and 7AM and while I despise the unexpected, there’s something thrilling about this moment where she finally appears, like a daydream, spectre of a devil wrapped into an angel’s skin. Like a candy I cannot wait to unwrap.

It’s been a month since I have decided she would be mine.  
I’ve been plotting and planning and now, it’s time to make my move.

༻❁༺

I made sure to keep my distance as I stood in the comforting shadow of a weeping willow, at the back of the cemetery, my hand grazing the grainy pattern of my sleeve as I tried my best not to stare at her for too long. Every five minutes, I would allow myself a proper glimpse and without a fail, my heart would miss a beat.

She had chosen to wear a black, pencil dress. Nothing provocative, obviously, but it still wrapped her generous, rounded hips perfectly. The soft, warm breeze of the upcoming spring made the baby hair at the back of her neck dance delicately on her skin and I couldn’t help but think about the goosebumps running up her spine every time it tickled that soft spot behind her ear. She looked bored, like a child forced to attend a family gathering but to my most misfortune, I also had to watch as she seemed to share unspeakable secrets with her colleague and how they loved to splatter their undeniable chemistry to the rest of the world. 

I had seen enough before, following her on a night off where they had both attended some show at the Apollo Theatre, shared a couple drinks at a local pub and eventually a cab back to her place. I’d watched it all happen right in front of me, up until the curtains closed and that was enough for me to assume they had fucked that night. 

Little did he know it would be the last time he’d ever lay a hand on her. 

It took ages for me to find her all by herself, nearby that tree where I had found shelter. She looked even more beautiful from up close, a few freckles scattered all over her face and her big, curious eyes staring back at me the second she realized I was there. 

Her voice sounded like honey to my ear and I couldn’t help but try and imagine how it would break into a reckless plea as I’d go down on her. She must have tasted like heaven and I just couldn’t wait to feast on every single piece of her skin. I loved the way she didn’t seem to bother about her hair flying all over her face when most girls liked to wrap it behind their ears every two minute. A golden, dangly pendant was comfortably nesting at the soft crook between her boobs and I immediately found myself jealous of a silly piece of jewelry, my entire face itching at the thought of resting upon her breast, taking in her scent, biting into her delicate flesh until it turned into the darkest shade of pink. 

I knew she was mine the second she smiled at me, her eyes begging for me to worship her.  
She seemed like a carefree bird, floating through the wind,  
waiting to be captured.


End file.
